Hubris said, 'Deep scan has revealed a black spot underneath Samarkand's surface. This shaft leads to it. It is two kilometres under the ground. I initiated a probe.'

Black spot?

Then he remembered: a black spot was something the various radiations of scan bounced back from without the usual spectroscopic information; or something from which they did not return, like a black hole.

'Did you get a bounce?' he asked.

'Total reflection. There is a lenticular object of an as yet unidentified material. It is five metres wide by two metres thick.'

'What materials give that kind of reflection?'

'There are one hundred and fifty-six recorded—'

'OK, don't list them.' He continued to watch the screen. Then something more occurred to him. 'Hang on, will that probe be all right down there? What about the mycelium?'

'All the ceramal in this probe's construction has been replaced by chainglass.'

Remembering what Jane had said, Cormac snorted and returned his attention to his food. The picture was uninteresting and he gave it only cursory attention. He finished his meal and poured out the last of his wine. As he sipped, Hubris spoke again.

'Further information indicates that the shaft is too narrow for the object to have passed down it in its present form.'

'How do we know it did?' asked Cormac.

'We do not, but it does seem likely.'

'Then there would be a crater. Signs from when it struck.'

'Not necessarily. Samarkand has had recent volcanic activity.'

'What exactly do you mean by recent?'

'Two hundred thousand years ago,' Hubris replied.

Cormac let that sink in. He also equated it with a claim Dragon had made about his age and wondered just what the hell he was dealing with here. He got back to the central issue.

'It might be that the shaft was cut by people on Samarkand. Perhaps they were digging this thing up,' he said.

The picture from the probe changed as it slowed and turned. What he was seeing now was frosted black glass. He doubted the crystals were from water-ice, though.

'The walls of the shaft are made of compression glass,' Hubris told him. 'This indicates the rock was melted and compressed. The usual method of tunnel digging is to either cut or vaporize the rock. Here, on a cold world with an energy surplus from the runcible, it would have been the latter method. There are no records of either being used. No records of any such excavation.'

'They would have been destroyed with the runcible, wouldn't they?'

'The discovery and subsequent excavation of such an object would have been of interest to all Polity AIs and many human experts. The Samarkand AI would not have kept the news to itself.'

Cormac sat still and let that percolate through his mind. It seemed as if something other than people had been at work here. The dracomen again?

'Have you scanned for any equipment near the mouth of the tunnel?'

'I have. Before moving to deep scan I completed a full scan of the surface of the planet.'

'Oh,' said Cormac. Then he looked up at the screen as it blanked out. 'Hubris, where's the picture?'

'There is no more picture. Something destroyed the probe.'

Cormac stepped out of the drop-shaft into the shuttle bay, took a deep breath to bring some calm to himself. It was not what they might find on the planet that worried him; it was the briefing he was about to give. All four of the Sparkind awaited him, along with an assistant of Chaline's. She was too busy with preparations to install the runcible to come herself, so she said. As he walked to the shuttle Cormac studied these people, for they were all people under Polity law.

The two Golem Thirties made Gant and Thorn appear small. Both of them were over two metres tall and archetypes of human physical perfection. Only Cybercorp produced androids like this. All other androids were poor by comparison, if you believed their advertising. It was true that there were some pretty dreadful copies: the metal-skins, or others that were more like a collection of prosthetics than anything coherent.

Aiden had cropped blond hair and blue eyes, and looked like what Hitler might have been after with his eugenics programme. He was distinctly Teutonic. Cento had curly black hair, brown eyes and tanned skin, and might just as well have been modelled on Apollo. All four of the Sparkind were loaded with equipment. The weapons they carried did not weigh much, but then did not have to. If they were not sufficient, then the next step would have to be a direct strike from the ship. Chaline's assistant, Cam, was a small monkeylike man, thin and wiry. He affected a beard like Thorn's, but his hair was long and tied in a ponytail. Behind his right ear was the crystalline slug of a cerebral augmentation, and his eyes were mismatched. His right eye, its yellow pupil matching the colour of his crystal aug, was certainly artificial; the other eye was a mild brown. His left hand was silvered, and a wide range of instruments was strapped up his arms and on the belt of his coldsuit. Cormac reckoned that he had more instrumentation inside than outside, and felt a moment of affinity with him. He stepped forwards to speak to them all.

'You're all probably aware of the situation, but I'll reiterate just to be sure. Two hours ago Hubris picked up a black spot on scan. It was bounce rather than absorption, so it's probably an artefact. It is lenticular and about five metres wide by two metres thick. We've since learnt that it sits in a chamber about a hundred metres across. Hubris also detected a shaft leading down to it. The shaft was formed by methods we don't usually employ.' He paused for a moment. 'It seems increasingly likely that no human agency made it. It could be that the object made the shaft, diough it is itself larger, but this is all speculation. One hour ago Hubris sent a probe down. One kilometre down, the probe was destroyed.'

Cormac walked to one side and rested his hand against the wing of the shuttle above his head. Stacked before him were some packages ready to be loaded. He continued his monologue.

'Whatever destroyed the probe is still down there. Now, it seems highly unlikely that this object has nothing to do with the destruction of the runcible, and I get suspicious when it appears something does not want us to see it.' He nodded to Cam. 'I want you to find out exactly what it is.' He inspected the four Spar-kind in turn. 'And you know what your jobs are. Any questions?'

'Has there been anything more on scan from down there?' asked Gant.

Cormac shook his head. 'Too deep. Hubris picked up the object only because it was a black spot. Very little else can be read that far down.'

Gant went on. 'You detailed climbing equipment. We brought 2k reels of chain-cotton and motorized abseils. Is it a straight drop? Could be difficult if we run into trouble.'

'No, the shaft runs down at about thirty-five degrees. There'll be ice, though.'

Gant tapped the box he was sitting on. 'Grip shoes. I didn't like the footing last time we went down. How about lighting? I'd like to send drone lights ahead, if that's possible.'

'We'll try it. Anything else?'

Cam spoke up then. His voice was soft but incisive. 'You realize that if this object is impenetrable to scan, it may be impenetrable at close range to portable equipment?'

'There is that possibility, I agree…'

'I merely wish to ascertain that you are aware of the difficulties. It may be that the artefact will have to be… moved to the ship.'

From under two kilometres of rock?

Cam observed him, and his mouth twitched with repressed amusement.

Cormac suddenly twigged. He nodded.

'That can wait. There may be other evidence down there we don't want to destroy… like whatever got the probe. Is that all?' They all nodded agreement. 'Let's go then.'